


Contacts

by Wolfcry22



Category: IT (2019), IT (Movies-Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Contacts, Depression, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Panic Attacks, Post It Chapter Two (2019), referenced character death, stages of grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-02-01 03:01:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21347827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22
Summary: After defeating Pennywise, Richie Tozier decides that wearing his glasses reminds him too much of Eddie, so he tries to learn how to put contacts in and it goes just about as well as you would expect. Throw in grief and anger and there is just a disaster brewing. Beverly does her best to help Richie, but she’s not Eddie, and she can only try to help Richie through his grief.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Break

I saw an interesting prompt about Richie not wanting to wear glasses anymore after what happened at the Nebolt house. Richie being too devastated about loosing Eddie and not wanting to wear his glasses anymore. Trouble is, he’s never used contacts before and it’s a little more difficult than he imagined. He becomes frustrated and that just makes things worse. He’s also staying with Beverly since she doesn’t trust him to be on his own. 

“Damnit!”

Beverly looked up from where she was preparing dinner in the kitchen. She lifted the wooden spoon from the pot of broiling red spaghetti sauce. She tapped the remnants of the sauce on the side of the pot before setting it on a paper towel beside her on the counter. She removed it from the heat before she untied the apron from around her waist and threw it on the dinning room table as she headed toward the source of the exclamation.

She walked down the hallway to the half bath that was close to the guest bedroom. She saw that the door was slightly ajar and she could see Richie leaned over the sink. He had both of his hands lifted to his face with his right hand over his eye as he held his eyelids open with his thumb and pointer finger. The other hand held a small, round contact on his pointer finger. The hand holding the contact shook madly as he tried to bring it up to his eye. He fell an inch short before slamming his fist down on the sink, almost spitting in rage.

“Damnit! Shit!” 

Beverly’s eyes rounded in concern as she crept forward and slightly tapped on the ajar door. “Richie,” she whispered gently.

Richie’s head spun around sharply. He frowned before scrambling for his glasses and pushing them onto his face. His shoulder slumped when he saw Beverly. “What do you want,” he seethed, the frustrating hardened his words.

Beverly was used to Richie’s snarky and cold comments, especially in the past two weeks. She had offered for Richie to stay with her for a little since she didn’t trust him to be by himself. He had been in horrible shape when she had driven to his apartment to find him drunk and sputtering, rambling on about Eddie’s death. She had made the split second decision to take him back with her and look after him. 

He had been strangely quiet for the first two days and had almost locked himself in the guest bedroom. When Beverly had finally coaxed him out, Richie had been sullen with his eyes glazed over in grief. She had tried to get him to speak about how he was feeling, but Richie was beyond guarded to the idea. He would make sharp remarks here and then about it as if that was how he was processing it. Beverly had been waiting for the other shoe to drop and she was afraid that was what she was seeing unfold in front of her.

“I just heard you from the kitchen,” Beverly explained gently as she pushed on the door to open it. She leaned against it as she took in her friend. His hair was ruffled, his eyes were glazed in tiredness, his body was shaking, and his demeanor just showed how defeated he seemed. “I wanted to make sure that everything was okay.”

Richie let out a frustrated huff as he turned away from her to look back in the mirror. “Everything’s fine,” he reported fiercely. He lifted his fingers to his right eye in an attempt to hold the lids open while the other hand came toward his face. “You can go now.”

Beverly didn’t say anything as she watched Richie continue to struggle. He got closer than she had seen earlier, but the contact fell from Richie’s finger and landed in the sink. Richie’s jaw set in pure agitation as he lifted the contact and was about to try it again when Beverly stepped forward. “Hey, you need to clean that off with contact solution,” she interrupted.

“What do you know about it,” Richie muttered. While his words didn’t have the same bite from earlier, it was still slightly unnerving to Beverly.

Beverly tried not to flinch. “I wear contacts,” she announced.

Richie’s head whipped around with his eyes slightly widening as he grabbed his glasses to put them on his face once again. “Really?”

“Yeah. Not all of us can have perfect vision when we got older,” she joked with a reassuring smile. Richie didn’t return it, but he did nod in understanding. “Do you want me to try and help?”

Richie snorted in distain as he turned back to the mirror. “I’m fine. I need to figure out this damn thing on my own,” he snapped dismissively. 

Even though it was clear that Richie didn’t want her there, Beverly wasn’t about to leave him. She could tell that he was teetering on the edge of a breakdown. It was inevitable. He hadn’t fully come to terms over Eddie’s death and he didn’t want to talk about it. He hid behind his humor like always and it wasn’t healthy anymore. She could see the slight twitch in his brow and the shakiness that coursed through his body. It wouldn’t be long before Richie couldn’t keep his composure anymore. She just wasn’t sure if it would be anger or grief that would finally push him over the edge.

Richie didn’t bother to wash off the contact like Beverly had suggested. Beverly wanted to say something, but she held her tongue. She watched through concerned eyes as Richie jabbed the contact into his eye roughly. He blinked and drew back from the mirror before pushing the heel of his hand harshly against his eye. He let out a gasp of pain with his face screwed up.

“What’s wrong,” fretted Beverly as she took a step forward in fear at the way that Richie was acting.

Richie hissed with his palm still jabbed into his eye while a grimace was played on his face. “Shit, it burns. Shit!” A few other strings of words left Richie’s lips and Beverly didn’t bother to comment on it.

“That’s why you need to clean it off before you put it in,” Beverly reminded as she lifted a hand and rubbed it comfortingly against Richie’s back. 

Richie drew away from Beverly harshly. Beverly drew back as well while Richie kept backing up. He collided with the wall forcefully and swore loudly before his face suddenly crumpled. His breathing was coming in painful gasps that seemed to tear from his chest. Now his hand lowered from his eye and was held over his mouth as he let out choking sobs that shook his entire body. His legs seemed almost unable to hold his weight as he shifted from one leg to the other while trying to compose himself.

Alarm surged through Beverly as she took a step forward and looked intently down on Richie. She didn’t want to startle him, so she kept her movements as controlled and slow as possible. Her eyes were gentle while her hand stretched out while she struggled to keep it from trembling. “Hey, hey, Richie, honey.”

Richie didn’t answer, but he continued to let out choking sobs into his hand. “I can’t get it out,” Richie sputtered although he really wasn’t messing with his eye anymore. He just shaking and rocking while holding his breath. His face was taking on a red hue while tears streaked down his face. Beverly had never seen Richie like this and it took her a moment to realize what was happening. 

“Richie, you need to calm down,” she told him calmly as she rested both of her hands on Richie’s shoulder to grasp his attention. “You need to breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” 

Richie opened his eyes wide to look at her. His right eye with the contact was red with irritation while tears flowed from it. He shook his head madly before his legs gave out and he slipped down the wall in a sort of heap. Beverly was right beside him when he did so, sitting close while trying not to overwhelm Richie with her presence. She saw him working his hands together as he finally dropped his left hand from his mouth while still rocking back and forth with his knees brought up to his chest. She could practically fell his frantic heartbeat that threatened to burst from his chest. His breath wheezed in his lungs as he started to hyperventilate. 

Richie just groaned slightly while Beverly rested a hand on his shoulders to slightly pivot him toward her. “Richie, honey, look at me,” Beverly instructed as she dropped one of her hands to his chin. She slightly tipped it up to urge him to look at her. 

Richie’s eyes opened slowly to look at Beverly with his lip trembling. “You need to breathe. You’re going to cause yourself to pass out if you keep doing that.” 

“C-Can’t,” Richie sputtered with a gasp.

Beverly tried to hide her fear from Richie as she spoke again. “Yes you can. Just copy me, okay? Ready? In and out. In through your nose and out through your mouth.” She sucked in a massive breath in through her nose before breathing out through her mouth. She did it over and over again as she waited for Richie to copy her.

Richie hesitated before he sniffled and tried to copy her. He drew in a breath through his nose that turned into a cough before trying to repeat it once more. He was finally able to at least try to copy her as he sucked in a small breath through his nose and out through his mouth. The two continued to breathe in unison until Richie seemed calm enough to actually speak more than one word to Beverly.

“That a little better,” Beverly soothed questioningly. She noticed that Richie was no longer hyperventilating or shaking nearly as bad. That was positive step in her eyes. “Now, how about we get that contact out of your eye? I think that it may be flipped since your eye seems pretty irritated.”

Richie didn’t look the least bit thrilled. Although the discomfort he was feeling was enough to make the decision for him. “I guess so.” He lifted his hands to his face before Beverly swept forward and clutched her hands against his wrists to halt him. “What are you doing?”

“You’re just going to make it worse if you try.” Richie opened his mouth to say something smart, but Beverly was quicker. “Let me help you.”

Richie gulped as he contemplated it. Beverly swore she could see the gears turning in his head before he finally nodded. “A-Alright,” he finally stammered as he lowered his hands slowly.

Relief seemed to flick across Beverly’s face now that she didn’t have to worry about Richie making things worse. She gently raised Richie from the floor and set him on the closed seat of the toilet. She grasped his chin ever so gently and turned his head upward. A gentle smile was on her face as she headed over to the sink and grasped the contact solution. She squirted a few drops on her pointer finger and thumb of her right hand before setting it on the windowsill beside her.

“Okay, this is going to be as quick and painless as we can make it, alright? You just need to stay as still as possible. I’ve done this for myself, but not others,” Beverly explained as she tipped his chin upward still and slightly shifted back and forth until she could see the clear contact over Richie’s eye. It was clear that it was irritating Richie’s eye since tears seemed to pool around it and the eye was bloodshot. Beverly knew she had to be as quick as possible to not cause Richie anymore discomfort while also being gentle.

Richie slightly bit his bottom lip to keep from trembling. “I’m ready.”

Beverly tried to work as cryptically as possible. She opened Richie’s eyelid with her pointer finger and thumb while using the other hand to pinch her forefinger and thumb around the pesky contact. Richie tried to close his eye, but Beverly was quicker and she managed to pinch the contact just as Richie’s eyes subconsciously closed. Beverly held the contact on her fingers and gave Richie a small smile as he rubbed at the eye where the contact had just been irritating it.

Beverly carried the contact to the sink and set it in the container Richie had for him labeled with a R for the right eye. She then came back to Richie with his glasses in her hand. She stole a glance to it and saw that the lens had been replaced where Richie had broken them after their fight with Pennywise. She could still recall him viciously scrubbing the blood off of them at the quarry. Beverly and Ben had managed to get them fixed very quickly after, but Richie had been trying to avoid wearing them, which had been an awful idea since his vision was so terrible. Although, she hadn’t seen him switching to contacts like it was nothing.

“Here,” she offered as she extended her arm with the glasses held loosely in her grip.

Richie squinted as he glanced up to it with hostility clear in his cloudy gaze. He didn’t take them as his head slightly turned to gaze at the window, despite him not being able to see very well.

“Richie,” Beverly began as she saw the slight curl of his lip and rigid stance. There was clearly more than a little anger in his stance that caused Beverly to furrow her brows in concern. “Rich.” She stretched out his hand and gave Richie’s knee a slight squeeze as she kneeled down in front of him. “Honey, what’s going on with you?”

Instead of sadness, anger suddenly washed over Richie. He turned to Beverly with rage glistening in his watery eyes. “What’s it to you?”

There was pure malice in his voice and Beverly tried not to show the hurt that she felt. While Richie didn’t have the usual bite to his words, it had still been hurtful. Beverly had been here for Richie for all of his ups and downs ever since Derry and losing Eddie. She had tried to make things as smooth and comfortable for him as possible while he just found his footing after everything that happened. Unfortunately, Richie had seemed to retreat in on himself, rarely going out of the house and locking himself in his room often. Showering and shaving seemed to be optional with him as well as eating. Beverly did her best not to become frustrated with Richie even after he sputtered all these harsh words. However much Richie spewed hurtful and harsh words, Beverly knew that it was just because he was hurting deep inside. Beverly just needed to find a way to help Richie release that into a more constructive way.

“What’s it to me,” Beverly repeated as she kept her voice as calm and controlled as possible. “You’re my friend, Richie, and I care about you. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t care about you. I just need to know what you need. You need to help me out a little, alright?” Her voice was still gentle as she slightly moved his knee back and forth with her hand still on his kneecap as he tried to reassure him as much as possible. 

Richie’s eyes blazed as if he had another sharp remark on his tongue. Beverly had mentally prepared herself, but the lash never came. Instead, Richie’s shoulders slumped and he appeared defeated. “He would know,” he finally muttered under his breath.

Beverly clustered even closer to Richie. “Honey, I couldn’t hear you. What did you say,” she whispered.

“He would know,” Richie repeated a bit louder this time as he looked to Beverly. There were tears in his eyes that he was desperately trying not to release. He gnawed on his bottom lip so tightly that he almost bled. A hollow look showed deep within his gaze that held the dam of all his emotions. Grief and loss were kept there deep inside so that he didn’t have to deal with them. They were just itching to burst out of Richie at any moment and Beverly could tell that it would happen soon. The only thing she could do was be there for him.

Beverly was tempted to drop it, but she knew that she couldn’t. She cared for Richie too much to leave him there. “Who would,” Beverly dared ask. She had leaned forward and rested her chin on top of her hand that was still on Richie’s knee. She glanced upward through gentle eyes.

Richie didn’t answer. His face just crumpled once more as he wrapped his arms around his midsection as cries were ripped from his throat. The grief and loss broke through their barrier in the form of tears as they rolled down Richie’s cheeks and dripped down his chin to land on his shoulders. He tried to contain the body raking sobs that he had earlier, but he was unable to. Richie let out an almost keening caterwaul that echoed on the tiles of the modest bathroom. His hands tightened into fists that grabbed his shirt before they flew up to his face to guard his shame form Beverly. His shoulders shook with each intense inhale that led to hiccuping breaths. Sniffles punctuated his cries while Richie’s body seemed to pull in on itself to make him seem smaller. 

Beverly rose to her feet and pressed against Richie. She gingerly wrapped her arm around his shoulder as she stood, trying to soothe him with gentle words. 

Richie let out another cry before he pushed his head against Beverly’s stomach, since that was where his head came to while he was sitting on the toilet lid while Beverly stood pressed beside him. Beverly wrapped her arms around Richie as he buried his face into her and continued to body racking sobs. Beverly rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as she murmured softly, but the only sound that could be heard throughout her home was the heartbreaking sobs of Richie Tozier.


	2. Emotional Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie finally has a safe place to give into his grief, but when he starts, will he ever be able to stop?

Beverly continued to rub her hand in small, comforting circles against Richie’s back with her eyes pooling with tears. She couldn’t show her emotion with Richie still sobbing uncontrollably in front of her. She tried to hush him and offer reassurance with little whispers so not to add to the noise. However, it did nothing to help comfort the heavy sobs that shook Richie’s entire body.

All Beverly could do was stand there and let Richie’s grief run it’s corse. Richie had been suppressing his emotions with the loss of Eddie for weeks now. Despite Beverly’s best efforts, Richie had continued to push her away and insist that there was nothing to talk about. He certainly wasn’t open to her idea to attend therapy, so Beverly decided not to press it. She had been patiently waiting for the other shoe to drop, but she hadn’t expected that contacts would be the one thing to set him over the edge.

After a while, Richie’s sobs turned into hiccuping breaths and bleary sniffles. Beverly felt the front of her shirt grow wet from Richie’s tears, but Beverly wasn’t about to comment on it and risk embarrassing Richie. “Hey, you alright,” she asked softly in only the way that Beverly could, as being the only girl looser in the group. While Mike or Bill would’ve tried their best to comfort him, or really anyone from the group, Richie would always find comfort with Beverly.

Richie lifted the back of his hand and rubbed at his eyes, trying to scrub the tears from his eyes. “I’m fine,” he replied sharply, although his voice didn’t have the usual strength that he usually possessed.

Beverly slightly hummed to herself before pulling herself away from Richie. She headed over to the sink and kneeled down to grab a washcloth from under the sink. She ran it under the cool water and wrung it out. She quickly brought it back over to Richie and began to wipe the tears from his puffy eyes as well as the tears that had ran down his cheeks. His eyes were still bloodshot and his cheeks red, but the only one who would know what had went on was Beverly.

“You should’ve told me that you wanted to wear contacts,” Beverly replied softly once she had cleaned Richie up to the best of her ability. “I could’ve helped you so that you didn’t have to many issues. If I could teach myself, then I could teach you.” She slightly nudged Richie playfully as she placed a smile on her face.

Richie swayed as he nodded slowly in agreement. He let out another sniffle as he swallowed thickly to clear his throat, which was raw from the cries that had torn from his throat. “I-I know,” he stammered after a moment. 

“Then why didn’t you,” Beverly continued.

There were a million reasons that Richie could’ve used to answer her. He felt like he had to do it on his own. It was something almost intimate that he wanted to do for Eddie. He was embarrassed. Instead, he responded with, “I didn’t want you to think that I was a little bitch.”

“Now, I think that anyway, Rich,” joked Beverly fondly.

That placed a smile on Richie face, an actual, genuine smile. He had been putting on a fake facade since Eddie’s death and that included a lot of fake smiles. However, this one was actually genuine. “Just a lot of reasons, I guess,” he corrected.

“Hmmm. Does this have something to do with Eddie,” Beverly dare ask. She hadn’t wanted to go there, but she knew that if Richie was going to get through his grief, then he had to get Richie to acknowledge it and talk about it. She did know that much about grief. 

Richie’s eyes hardened as he turned to Beverly through an angry gaze. It would’ve have more power if he wouldn’t have had to squint thanks to his poor vision. “I don’t see how that had anything to do with this,” Richie finally was able to spat out. 

Beverly looked to Richie in surprise. “You don’t? Well, I think that I can shed some light on it.” She rose to her feet and reached for the glasses that she had set down when Richie refused to wear them. She realized that Richie wouldn’t even look at them. Beverly stood right in front of Richie and tried to will him to look at her. “I think that it has something to do with this.”

Richie turned his head to the side while he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. Beverly kneeled in front of him with the glasses. “Look at me, Richie.” She paused when Richie did nothing. “Richie, you need to look at me.”

Richie almost shook in rage as Beverly lifted her hand and turned his chin to look down at her hand where she was holding his glasses. “I need you to tell me what you’re feeling or I can’t help you. Why are you so against wearing your glasses? Hell, Richie you can’t see without them.”

Richie seemed to stare at the corner of the lens that had once been cracked. He almost shook in rage. He was teetering on the edge and Beverly wasn’t sure whether or hold him back or push him. Against her better judgement, she gave him the slightest of a nudge.

“Richie, what do these glasses remind you of?”

Suddenly, Richie stiffened and then rose to his feet, almost exploding forward. He snatched the glasses from Beverly’s lax hand with such ferocity that Beverly stumbled backwards in shock. Whatever reaction she had been looking for, that hadn’t been it.

Richie narrowed his eyes in hatred to the glasses in his grasp before glaring at Beverly. “What do they remind me of? They remind me of the worst fucking day of my life! He was right there in front of me and he was taken away! I had his blood on me.” Richie’s hands curled into fists while Beverly backed up almost fearfully. “He died in my arms and you all made me leave him!”

Beverly’s eyes slightly widened as she nodded slowly. “And it was his blood on your glasses.”

Richie’s entire body seemed to coil in on itself. His eyes shone in grief and pain. “He wasn’t supposed to do! He was supposed to be here and he’s not. He left me and I couldn’t do anything!” He glanced once more at the glasses before he slammed them into the ground, breaking them into pieces with the lens completely shattering.

Beverly couldn’t help but almost yelp as she drew back in terror. Memories flashed in her mind of her ex-husband and the way that he had used violence and the threat of violence as a way to control her. Just the thought was enough to make her want to run the other way. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that Richie was only doing this because he was hurting and he needed her right now, even if he wasn’t sure how to appropriately convey that.

“He left me! He’s not coming back,” Richie roared as he lifted his hand and grasped both sides of his head as he tried to pull at his hair. “He’s gone and there’s nothing that I can do about it! He’s fucking dead! I loved him and now he’s dead! It’s not fair! It’s never fucking fair!”

The words that tumbled from Richie’s mouth in a way that Beverly’s head spun as she tried to keep up with them. She shook her head slightly before she came toward Richie, against her better judgement. She lifted her hands and placed them softly over Richie’s hands as they continued to pull at his hair. “Hey. Shhh, shhh, it’s alright. Let it out,” she instructed. She had thought that Richie had gotten out all of his pent up emotions earlier when he was sobbing, but he now knew that that wasn’t true. 

Richie looked up with his lip quivering. “It’s not fair that I never got to love him,” Richie finally breathed out in a frantic whisper.

Beverly felt her heart break for him. She sucked in a small breath before nodding. “I know, I know, and I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so so sorry.”

Richie’s face crumpled again as Beverly took her hands and wrapped them around Richie’s neck in a hug. Richie drew his head downward and rested his head on Beverly’s shoulder. Beverly continued to wrap him in her embrace with Richie doing the same as he cried. 

The two stood there for as long as Richie needed. Beverly wasn’t about to rush any of it. She knew how much Richie was broken inside. This was raw and emotional turmoil inside of Richie that was bubbling to the surface. Beverly hadn’t known how bad it was and she wished she had done something about it sooner. However, thinking about the past wasn’t going to change anything for now she just needed to be the best friend to Richie that she could. It what she should’ve been doing before and she was more than willing to make up for it now. 

Beverly let Richie lean on her for as long as possible as sobs racked his body. They finally started to tamper off, but Beverly didn’t release him until Richie pulled back. He sniffled heavily as he lifted the back of his hands and rubbed them against his puffy eyes. “You must think I’m like this weak bitch.”

“I would never think that. You’re stronger than anyone else I know,” Beverly told him softly.

Richie crossed his arms across his chest in an almost hug to himself. “I doubt that.” He gave a huff of frustration. “Then what’s happening to me?”

“You’re grieving is all. This happens during grief. I know you miss Eddie, we all do, but keeping your feelings cooped up isn’t helping,” Beverly added. He stretched his hand and squeezed Richie’s hand reassuringly. “You loved him, didn’t you?”

Richie bit his lower lip before nodding slowly. “I would do anything just to tell him that. Everywhere I look I see him.” His gaze flicked downward to the shattered glasses that were now just bits of plastic and lens strewed everywhere on the bathroom floor. “I just don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

“Then well work through this together,” Beverly instructed with a small smile that didn’t quite travel up to her eyes. “Alright?” 

Richie managed a small nod. “Alright,” he breathed as he gave another pass at his eyes with a now close fisted hand.

Beverly forced some cheer into her movements as she suddenly reached over and patted Richie’s shoulder. “How about we try working on the contacts again, huh? Maybe the two of us working together will help, what do you say?”

Although Richie wasn’t quite sure whether or not it would be a great idea to try again, he couldn’t see without the glasses that he destroyed and he couldn’t go through the rest of the day blind. “Yeah, sure, let’s do it.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richie awoke the next morning early with his eyes still puffy from the crying the day before. It had taken him and Beverly most of the day to finally wrestle the contacts into Richie’s eyes just to take them right out so that he could go to bed. 

He forced himself into a sitting position and arched his arms over his head in a massive stretch. He looked at the clock and saw that it was almost 2 in the afternoon. He set his jaw as he thought about sleeping so late while Beverly was out working. Richie had tried to reassure her that he would go back to his stand up act soon, but he just wasn’t in the right headspace for it. He certainly didn’t want a repeat of his last show where he completely lost his shit, so he supposed it was best to wait it out. 

Richie suddenly turned his head and noticed a pair of brown glasses with wide frames with a single sheet of notebook paper under it. He reached out his hand shakily and grasped the glasses weakly. He brought them up to his face and slid them onto his face. It only took him a few moments to blink his eyes and see that the prescription was correct, perfect even.

He then scrambled for the note and brought it up to his face to read it.

Richie-

I know that it hasn’t been easy for you. I just want to let you know that I’m proud of you. We’re all proud of you and Eddie would be proud of you too. We’re going to get through this as long as we lean on each other and I will always be there for you. I love you so much. 

P.S. I hope you like your new glasses. I wasn’t quite sure about the frames, but something about them just made me think of you.

-Beverly

Richie couldn’t help but smile at the compassion that Beverly had shown him. He may have lost Eddie and he would never get over it fully, but he needed to work on getting himself right. He knew that with Beverly and the other Losers at his side it would one day become a possibility.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw an interesting prompt about Richie not wanting to wear glasses anymore after what happened at the Nebolt house. Richie being too devastated about loosing Eddie and not wanting to wear his glasses anymore. Trouble is, he’s never used contacts before and it’s a little more difficult than he imagined. He becomes frustrated and that just makes things worse. He’s also staying with Beverly since she doesn’t trust him to be on his own.


End file.
